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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26768806">Heaven Has This Problem</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilliasRage/pseuds/MilliasRage'>MilliasRage</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Here's Hoping [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Haikyuu!!</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Chocolatier Tendou Satori, Dreams, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, Inspired by Music, Long-Distance Friendship, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, Pining, Post-Time Skip, Pro Volleyball Player Ushijima Wakatoshi, but just one sorry, mild choking</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 03:34:17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,990</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26768806</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/MilliasRage/pseuds/MilliasRage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p></p><blockquote>
  <p><i>He wanted to kiss his cheeks – rosy from the cold, his ears, those thick brows.</i> </p>
  <p> <i>In that moment, his heart had broken. Split open by the abundance of devotion he wanted to pour into the man beside him. Instead it overflowed, oozed, and seeped into his ribs, down and out into his limbs to sit heavy as an anchor holding him back from sailing to his promised land.</i></p>
</blockquote>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tendou Satori/Original Character(s), Tendou Satori/Ushijima Wakatoshi</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Here's Hoping [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1951252</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Heaven Has This Problem</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I decided to write a second part to "All I See Are Red Panes" in Satori's POV. Some of their conversations will show back up here, as well as new ones. I highly, HIGHLY recommend reading the first part <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26143387%22">here</a> before reading this piece.</p><p>Shoutouts to my amazing beta <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destini/pseuds/Little%20Giant">Destini</a>. I really couldn't publish stuff of this quality without her.</p><p>This was inspired by another Kilo Kish EP, "REDUX" You can listen to it on <a href="https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=OLAK5uy_kbfmnG20X3BK2OEa1Hqo2VjMsjrI19QFE">YouTube</a> and <a href="https://open.spotify.com/album/5ucIr9JWjctbIdqChKmTYy?si=VHFMT1WSS7ig2DBlarjCeA">Spotify</a></p><p>Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <strong>BITE ME</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“I’m checking out a cool bakery with a friend later. Remember when I had you try scones the last time I was there? It's kind of like that place.”</p><p>“Yes, I remember. Hopefully, the food is just as good.” Wakatoshi's heavy voice reverberates through Satori's earbuds as he stands in front of his closet. He skims through jackets and t-shirts looking for a good match, resisting the overwhelming urge to just wear a hoodie and call it a day.</p><p>“Well, I'd better start getting ready. I’ll text you in the morning, yeah?”</p><p>“Alright. Good night, Satori.”</p><p>“Night, Toshi!!”</p><p>Wakatoshi always waits for him to hang up first, so he quickly ends the call before exhaling. He stares at the jackets in front of him, all bought at some point for whatever formal event his mentor-now-boss dragged him to.</p><p>He’s actually picking out an outfit for a <em>date</em> at the bakery like the one in Japan, with an <em>acquaintance</em> he met a few weeks ago at the creamery next door to his job. A consultant sent there to help plan and implement their renovations.</p><p>Satori grabs the gray blazer in front of him and throws it on the bed. He picks up his phone to check the time and his eyes linger on Wakatoshi's chat avatar, a crop of himself from an official Adlers team photo that Satori suggested he use. Crimson orbs shift away to look at anything else for a moment before he locks the phone.</p><p>It wasn’t too much of a surprise when Jonathan asked him out. Satori knew he was only in the area for a few months anyway. There’s a certain allure to people you know won’t stay. Unlike with those you believe will always be around, one is compelled to cherish every moment.</p><p>****</p><p>Satori spots Jonathan sitting at a small table in a corner of the bakery. He's viewing the menu and his eyes, dark as midnight, are blown with excitement.</p><p>“Jonathan! Salut!” he greets, approaching the table.</p><p>“Ah, Satori!” Jonathan stands to clap his hand on Satori’s shoulder as he usually does, except this time it lingers for a moment. It’s Satori’s first reminder that he’s decided to let this become something, maybe. Semi had been hounding him to ‘have some fun’ over the past 3 years he’s spent turning down suitors. He’s only ever wanted one person for quite some time now. One person who seems to stray farther and farther from his reach as each day, month, and year passes.</p><p>Wakatoshi has yet to give him a sign that he should stop holding on – to this love that he’s been harboring. Wordless, without action, it lies dormant and heavy within him. Unmovable and unconditional love stings just as much as it can heal, surely as long as he stays silent.</p><p>“How did your day go?”</p><p>“Pretty well, I didn’t do much after but stop home and talk to my friend.” Satori’s voice trails off involuntarily at the mention of Wakatoshi.</p><p>“Your best friend, right? The volleyball player?”</p><p>“Yeah, him. So,” Satori says, attempting to divert the conversation, “have you decided what you want to try first?”</p><p>“Oh! Yeah, I think I want to try the crêpes.”</p><p>“Oooh, I think I will too!”</p><p>“Thanks by the way, for showing me around these last couple weeks.” Jonathan flips his menu closed with a shy smile.</p><p>“Yeah! No problem, I couldn’t leave you out there looking so lost! And then you turned out to be really cool so, we all won, haha.” Satori hums, curiously examining the rest of the menu.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m a chef so I’m going to order like, 12 things tonight. Please don’t be alarmed!”</p><p>Satori freezes as Jonathan squeaks out the cutest giggle he’s ever heard.</p><p>“Was that you just now? Seriously?” Satori asks, trying to reign in a sputtering laugh.</p><p>“Oh my god, leave me and my dainty laugh alone!” Jonathan says as he can’t help but continue giggling.</p><p>“Knock-Knock,” Satori continues, covering his mouth to keep his composure.</p><p>“Nope. Just stop right there!”  </p><p>“Ok! Ok!” Satori concedes, neither of them able to control their laughter now.</p><p>The first round of desserts arrives as they fall into quiet conversation about their lives in Paris, and what brought them there.</p><p>“I actually lived in Japan for a couple years,” Jonathan says, scrutinizing the brightly colored frosting on his pastry. “I was a military baby, so, you know.”</p><p>“Mm that explains a lot, actually haha. Most people I meet here for the first time act so weird, but you’re just so… chill.” Satori sighs, dramatically chewing on his fresh fruit.</p><p>“I suppose that could be part of it, your gorgeous eyes are kind of enchanting too.”</p><p>“Jonathan, wow.” Satori chuckles, ducking his head to hide the incoming blush.</p><p>“That was kind of cheesy, huh? I apologize!”</p><p>“No, haha. Thank you, you’re… really sweet and I kind of hate it.” Satori smiles genuinely, and he notices it’s not the first time he has since he and Jonathan have met. In fact, it’s the first time he’s smiled this much in a while.</p><p>A couple hours later, Jonathan walks Satori to his transit stop and smiles coyly at Satori as they say their goodbyes. He’s a few centimeters shorter than Satori, including the shining dark curls that adorn the top of his head. The sides are shaved into a fade that meets neat sideburns. His lips curve up slightly at the edges, giving the illusion of a permanent smile. Toasted caramel skin glows with an ethereal radiance under the blue light of the neon shop sign beside them.</p><p>“This was nice, I’d like to do this again, if that’s ok,” Jonathan asks, smile much brighter, now.</p><p>“Yeah, I do too.” Satori agrees. He actually enjoys Jonathan’s company, even though it’s mostly just trying to make him laugh and getting lost in his endless eyes.</p><p>“Well, I’ll see you next week then. Actually, here take my number.”</p><p>They exchange phone numbers and part ways. There’s a dull, yet nagging tightness in the back of his throat the entire way home.</p><p>****</p><p>Satori’s phone buzzes a few minutes after he walks into his apartment. It’s a message from Semi.</p><p>[Semi Eita:] <em>So??? Are you back yet?? How did it go?</em></p><p>[Me:] <em>Just got home a few minutes ago. It was nice. UGH HE’S CUTE I GUESS.</em></p><p>[Semi Eita:] <em>Uh yeah you’ve shown him to me. He’s hot. Are you guys gonna go out again?</em></p><p>[Me:] <em>Maybe. Probably.</em></p><p>Satori’s phone starts ringing. He groans dramatically before answering the call and flopping onto his bed.</p><p>“What do you mean ‘probably’? You should definitely go out again if you had a good time! This is long overdue Satori and you know it!” Semi’s voice blares through the phone speaker.</p><p>“Yeah, I know, I get it. But, I just.” Satori breathes through his nose and closes his eyes.</p><p>“It’s taking a lot in me to… get over myself; Get over him.”</p><p>“Satori, the only person holding you back from knowing the truth is you. If you aren’t going to say anything to him, then your only other choice is to move on.”</p><p>
  <em>But, I love him. </em>
</p><p>The call falls into an awkward and painful silence as Satori fights back puddling tears. He takes a shuddering breath. <em>I love him and probably won’t ever tell him, Wakatoshi who has seldom asked for anything but to be told the truth. </em>Satori had never technically lied to him, but he was beginning to feel like a large part of his life was a lie in itself. <em>People are supposed to realize their love, no? Let it bloom into a beautiful romance. What about the other side? </em>Like scalding water, nothing burns quite as woundingly like love unrequited.</p><p>“I’m trying.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>BOTH SIDES</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The chocolaterie has been contracted to prepare treats for a week-long event in The Eighth, and things have been hectic to put it lightly. Satori sits hunched over his coffee table, reviewing orders and requests from the event planner. When he finishes the majority of his plans, he slinks to his bedroom with all intentions of passing out instantly. He hums, remembering that he’ll be able to sleep in before he spots his phone sitting at the edge of the bed and immediately curses to himself.</p><p><em>Shit, hope no one was looking for me…</em> He swipes the screen on and curses again at the notification for a missed call from Wakatoshi.</p><p>He’s probably still asleep but will be waking up soon, so Satori types out his apology before nodding off.</p><p>[Me:] <em>Sorry I didn’t pick up earlier. I was really busy with some boring paperwork I needed to get done. Did you sleep well?</em></p><p>He hears nothing from Wakatoshi until he calls again in the early afternoon.</p><p>****</p><p>Satori finishes his late brunch omelet and dials Semi up, he’s certain he’s still awake despite the time difference, the guy never sleeps these days.</p><p>“Satori, what’s up?” Semi greets. Loud music blares in the background, then gets quieter as he apologizes.</p><p>“So, Wakatoshi just, like, yelled at me, I think? Haha.”</p><p>“What? What did you do?”</p><p>“I didn’t do anything!! I mean. I just missed his call last night and when he called me a bit ago, he totally lost it on me. Like, by Toshi standards, of course. He seemed really upset about it. I don’t know. I just wasn’t expecting him to actually be that bothered?” Satori doesn’t want to tell Semi, but his cheeks are pink-dusted and his chest is still fluttering from his and Wakatoshi’s conversation. He felt guilty, though. Guilty for immediately interpreting Wakatoshi’s outburst as coming from a place of deeper feelings, maybe.</p><p>“He said he missed me. Well, I asked him if he did as a joke and of course he answered, but then said my good morning messages were important to him??”</p><p>Semi is silent on the other end for a few moments as Satori waits, trying to ignore the nerves setting in. He’s obviously grasping at crumbs and Semi’s gonna chew him out, probably.</p><p>“So, are you gonna tell him then?”</p><p>“What?! No! I mean. Semiiiii.”</p><p>“Satori, I’m not doing this again with you, holy shit.” Semi audibly sighs on the other end.</p><p>“I can’t just tell him something like this over the phone. It doesn’t feel right.”</p><p>“So, what happened when you were here for the New Year? You said you’d say something then.”</p><p>Satori stares at the empty plate in front of him and bites at the inside of his mouth, a nervous habit he developed from the initial stress of moving to Paris.</p><p> </p><p><em>He and Wakatoshi had been sitting alone in Wakatoshi’s family garden. Satori dragged him out there thinking he'd finally confess but found himself frozen, despite the warm body pressed against his side. His throat was tight and burning as he stared at the stone path beneath their feet</em> <em>. Time seemed to be suspended, chilled to a stop in the late December ambience. The flowers were dead and lay still, waiting to be reborn in Spring. He thought for a fleeting moment about how nothing about their current surroundings was fitting for the fiery confession he had been imagining for years now. He blew that off, straightened his back up and inhaled before turning toward Wakatoshi, whose eyes were trained up at the frigid night </em> <em>sky. He wanted to kiss his cheeks – rosy from the cold, his ears, those thick brows.</em></p><p>
  <em>In that moment, his heart had broken. Split open by the abundance of devotion he wanted to pour into the man beside him. Instead it overflowed, oozed, and seeped into his ribs, down and out into his limbs to sit heavy as an anchor holding him back from sailing to his promised land.</em>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>“Yeah, about that. It didn’t feel right then either.”</p><p>“I get it, you’re scared. But it’s Wakatoshi. Whatever he feels, he’s not gonna like, cut you off or whatever worst-case scenarios you’re thinking of.”</p><p>Satori bites deeper into his mouth. Worst cases. He’s sure he’d rather Wakatoshi never speak to him again than reject his confession. He’s definitely in too deep for that. He’s been in love with him for so long, that he’s basically come to terms with the idea of Wakatoshi being the only person he will ever want like <em>this</em>. He’s convinced himself that he won’t be able to give anyone else what he wants so badly to give Wakatoshi.</p><p>“I don’t have anything else to tell you, Satori. You know Wakatoshi cares for you. You can talk to him about anything, and this shouldn’t be any different.” Semi pauses then sighs, it’s distant as if he doesn’t want Satori to hear how exhausted he is as well.</p><p>“I know that’s easy for anyone to just say, but… fuck just tell him, dude. I think you’d feel a lot better with the truth out there.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>SPARK</strong>
</p><p> </p><p>“Guess monster?”</p><p>“Yup! That’s what they used to call me.” Satori smiles brightly and slides another beer across the kitchen island to Jonathan.</p><p>“Instead of reading the plays, I read the people and blocked solely off that. A lot of people would say it was reckless, but it worked for me!” He sang, twirling his own bottle. He had invited Jonathan over after their dinner date; their fifth one since the bakery. Last weekend they kissed before parting ways, Jonathan’s warm lips pressed sweetly against his. They still tasted of the spiked chocolate float he had ordered.</p><p>Earlier outside of Satori’s building, Jonathan’s mouth lingered and released a warm shallow breath as Satori skated lithe fingers up along his neck. He wasn’t quite ready for him to go yet, now that he felt unbearably touch-starved. His arm slid to Jonathan’s shoulder then down his arm to grab his hand and pull him inside.</p><p>“Did your friend have a cool nickname too? Wakatoshi?” Jonathan’s question is innocent but rings painfully in his ears.</p><p>“Yeah, I used to call him ‘Miracle Boy’, still do sometimes, haha” Satori trails off before making his way around the island. He stops at the corner edge where Jonathan is sitting and leans in close with a smirk.</p><p>“So, what about you? Any cute childhood nicknames?” Satori reaches to pinch Jonathan’s cheek.</p><p>“No, nothing besides ‘Jay’ and ‘Jonny.’ Sorry to disappoint,” he replies, chuckling. He grabs Satori’s wrist and swivels on the stool to pull him close. Satori stands between Jonathan’s legs now, towering over the man sitting in front of him.</p><p>“You can give me a cool nickname if you want.” Jonathan coos, running his hands along Satori’s arms. They were warm and inviting, leaving a trail of goosebumps until they rested at his elbows and thumbed circles into his sensitive skin.</p><p>“Let me think about it, Hm?” Satori braces himself on Jonathan’s thighs and leans forward to kiss him.</p><p>****</p><p>Every touch burns with the sensitivity of years without the careful, intimate contact of another. Satori hisses as lips leave a trail of searing heat along his inner thigh. He presses his face into the pillow, eyes squeezed shut. The urge to think about <em>him </em>is a habit he’s developed not so recently. He tries to resist. Wondering if <em>he</em> would touch him like this. The battle isn’t hard fought, and now the scent of Jonathan’s cologne doesn’t match the image Satori has superimposed on him. The voice box producing the low moan of the man pushing into him doesn’t match, but the pleasure is <em>exquisite, </em>nonetheless. As long as he’s consumed by the rapture and keeps that wish on his lips, he’s satisfied.</p><p>The precipice approaches and, <em>no, no, don’t say his – </em>“Aah, Waka – mmf!” He buries his face in the pillow again and rides the blissful release. Satori spreads fingers through soft curls as Jonathan’s head sinks into his shoulder. <em>Shit…</em> </p><p>Satori is blessed with the sound of Jonathan’s sweet giggle and a tender kiss before he leaves a little while after that, no indication of having heard Satori’s slip earlier. He stands in the shower now, unable to stop cringing at his mistake. Whether Jonathan heard it or not, he’s angry with himself for failing to get over <em>him. </em>He wishes the water running over his head would wash away shame, just this once, so he can start all over. Instead, it streams aimlessly down on him and irritatingly gets in his eyes and ears.</p><p>“This is actually pathetic, Satori…” he murmurs to himself. The urge to call Semi wells up in his tight throat, but he denies it and climbs in bed.</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>OVER NOW</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Satori hums and turns a small plate over to dry it. The music playing out of the phone on the kitchen counter behind him pauses for an ad as he sets the plate on a stack of others identical to it. He picks up a small bowl to dry when a brief knock at the door startles him. The door creaks open before he has a chance to set the bowl down and he instead nearly drops it, watching Wakatoshi walk in and wordlessly make his way to the kitchen.</p><p>The bowl clacks against the hard surface as he rushes to place it down with shaky hands. His heart hammers in his chest at the unexpected visitor.</p><p>“T-Toshi, what are you doing here? Wait, how?? Did you call – ” Satori steps over to the counter to grab his phone and is suddenly sandwiched between the edge of it and Wakatoshi pressing against him from behind. The squeak of Wakatoshi's shoes echo throughout the room as he pushes closer – he's in his Adlers uniform – and loops thick arms around his waist. Satori’s fingers fan out to brace himself on the counter.</p><p>“Wakatoshi, what are you doing? Haha,” he asks again, laughing nervously. Wakatoshi feels larger than ever, <em>he does seem to get bigger and bigger every time he sees him, but. </em></p><p>“Seriously Toshi, why are you – ahh,” one of his enormous hands slides up Satori's neck and wraps around, fingers barely pressing in. Wakatoshi ducks his head to rest his lips against the shell of Satori's ear.</p><p>“You called me. Last night.” His deep voice slips through, close and resonant.</p><p>“What? What do you mean? I didn’t...” Satori gasps when fingertips skate over his lips and press in. He parts them and his eyes flutter shut. He’s panting, fingers scratching at the marble countertop, heat pools in his chest and abdomen. It’s so good and so equally confusing.</p><p>“Last night, in your bed. You called me. So I came,” the man behind him explains. Satori's head is swimming, overwhelmed by the body pushing into him, now in more ways than one.</p><p>“Ngh, I…” he tries to speak around the fingers in his mouth. Wakatoshi presses harder into him until he bends forward onto the counter, cheek flattening against the stinging cold of the solid surface. The phone begins to ring next to his head, a call from Semi.</p><p>“Pick it up,” Wakatoshi says, slipping the digits out of Satori’s mouth and wrapping his arms around him in a painfully tight hug. The phone’s vibration resounds louder and louder until it feels like it’s rattling his skull. The buttons won’t work despite his pressing them over and over.</p><p>
  <em>BUZZ.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>BUZZ.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>BUZZ.</em>
</p><p>Satori’s eyes shoot open, frantically processing the slivers of sunlight beaming in through the slits of his curtains, the sheets tangled around his arms, his phone lit up and buzzing with an unknown, Japanese? phone number on the screen.</p><p>He scrambles to pick up the phone and answer. Sleep crusted lashes flutter with confusion as he tries his best to reign in his post-dream heaving breaths and listen to the stranger speak.</p><p>“…a documentary?”</p><p>****</p><p>Satori doesn’t tell anyone besides Semi and his mother about Jounetsu Tairiku reaching out to him for the documentary. It isn’t until a few weeks later when he’s talking to Wakatoshi that he finally spills the beans.</p><p>“Remember when we were cooling down after that match against Karasuno? And I said you could have me interviewed. How insane is this, Wakatoshi?”</p><p>“I don’t see how it’s insane. You are doing great things in Paris, you deserve to be celebrated.”</p><p>“Awww Wakaaa, you say things like that so easily. Don’t ever change.” Satori can’t believe how effortless it’s been to suffer so much, yet experience such joy at the hands of one person. He supposes that’s what love is. Becoming the most vulnerable you’ve ever been since you were an infant clinging to your mother’s arms. Willing to give someone all of you while also absorbing the harshest pain, although Semi would call it self-inflicted in his case.</p><p>“I’m proud of you, Satori, I’ve said it before.” Wakatoshi’s voice is filtered through the phone but still sends shivers down Satori’s spine as <em>that</em> dream plays vividly in his mind. He pulls his legs up to his chest and places the phone down on the couch, switching it to speaker. This way he can properly bury his face in his knees to stifle the oncoming tears.</p><p>It’s beginning to become unbearable now. The wishing and hoping. Waiting for nothing, really. Holding back truths that have been one of the few constants in his life.</p><p>But, he’s just invited Wakatoshi to come to Paris for this documentary. To come <em>here</em>. He should probably say something this time. Maybe, probably. He inhales sharply and releases, only managing to relieve a fragment of the tension in his chest.</p><p>“I’m really proud of you too, Toshi.”</p><p>****</p><p>The chocolate in his mouth was bittersweet because he made it that way. Ironic wasn’t a word he could have used to describe his and Jonathan's comfortable silence as they sat in the river Seine's company. Stone stairs led down to a small embankment with a couple of old wooden bollards. An open box from Satori's chocolaterie lie on the ground between them. Jonathan's last day of work consulting for the creamery had ended earlier, and he unflinchingly told Satori he wanted to spend the rest of it with ‘his favorite chocolatier.’</p><p>Jonathan understood when Satori told him he wanted to slow down after that night. Jonathan somehow understood him in a lot of ways. A part of Satori's coming of age was the realization that the world is indeed full of millions and millions of people, and that alone was a good reason to let go of what some of those millions may have done to you in the past. A realization that there were others who had felt pain and isolation too, who could immediately recognize it in his eyes and teach him the true value of <em>empathy</em>. When they first met, it was like seeing a mirror of himself. Jonathan was reading him, from toque covered buzzed head to comfortably cushioned toe.</p><p>His mentor had only worked in the chocolaterie on <em>one</em> of the days Jonathan had visited. <em>“Your boss treats you like his own son.”</em></p><p>They went for a run together once. <em>“Did you live near mountains?”</em></p><p>Satori responded to a message from Wakatoshi. <em>“Have you ever been in love?” </em></p><p><em>“Once.” </em>Satori replied. Jonathan’s kisses and tender touch during the last few months may have been a celestial offering to him. His careful hands whispered promises into Satori’s skin. <em>Enjoy this temporary pleasure so you may not forget the one you truly covet.</em></p><p>“I heard it.” Jonathan says, reaching for another chocolate ball. His warm eyes were permanently smoldering, refusing to be snuffed out by the chilly spring air.</p><p>“Hm? Heard what?”</p><p>“I heard you say his name, when we were…” Jonathan trails off, smiling sheepishly at the river.</p><p>Realization sinks in and Satori bites at the inside of his lip, unsure of what to say in the face of complete embarrassment.</p><p>“You love him. Satori, it’s kind of obvious,” he continues, nonchalantly grabbing another chocolate as if he didn’t just totally expose him.</p><p>Satori buries his face in his hands, whining. “I’m so sorry. I haven’t been doing a great job of… dealing with that.” He laughs nervously before releasing a shaky breath. Another beat of silence. Satori raises his head to face forward, unable to look Jonathan in the eyes just yet.</p><p>“He was the first person to ever make me feel truly safe, you know? He became <em>home</em> to me… when I was fucking, literally home <em>IN </em>Japan, Jonathan.”</p><p>Jonathan nods and calmly reaches out to squeeze the pale shaking hand between them. Satori squeezes back, releasing an exhausted huff of air.  </p><p><em>“Qui sait de quoi demain sera fait,”</em> is what Jacques, his mentor, would always say. And without Jacques here to remind him, the perpetual ripples of the Seine before him would instead. He doesn’t know what tomorrow could bring. Like this current of water, life would continue on regardless of what he felt.</p><p>Jonathan took his turn as well. “You should tell him.”</p><p> </p><p>
  <strong>NICE OUT</strong>
</p><p>
  
</p><p>Outside on his apartment balcony, the webpage of assorted rental cars displayed on Satori’s laptop is barely visible in the bright sun. Actually, the visibility of the screen is a far gone thought as Satori stares blankly at the device. Unbeknownst to the passersby in the alley below and chattering neighbors across, he is fighting a turbulent battle within.</p><p>Wakatoshi will arrive tomorrow. He will be staying for a week. Satori has spent the past few days cleaning the apartment, shopping for things his best friend may need, and for things he may want. <em>What was his favorite tea again? Would he want a bath when he arrives? Should I get candles? Wait, what. Fuck. But he likes minty scented stuff, right? God, I just want to hug him, already. </em></p><p>Satori moves the cursor when the laptop screen goes to sleep, scrolls down the page a bit. <em>Should I go to the barber and get a real haircut? I wonder if he will. He always looked so good with a new haircut. </em>He imagines burying fingers in the cropped olive strands, stroking down his neck, then back along the warm skin behind Wakatoshi’s ear. The screen goes black again.</p><p>Satori claps his hands to his face and keeps them there for a moment. It’s no use. He’s already resolved not to tell Wakatoshi about this <em>thing </em>that’s been going on with his heart all these years. <em>I can love him just like this. I can support him. These feelings can dissipate on their own, over time</em>. Except, they’ve only grown stronger every passing second.</p><p>Time. It seemed like he was both grasping for all he could get and begging for it to pass as quickly as possible. A chance or a defining moment. Hope or silent, implicit rejection. Maybe he’ll hug him and his arms will linger. Maybe Wakatoshi will hold him and never let go. Maybe Wakatoshi will hold another and never look back.</p><p>Satori exhales and drops his arms to dangle at either side of the patio chair. He lets his head hang over the backrest and glowers up at the clear sky above. An airplane makes its way across; 80 tons of metal, nearly a speck in the vastness. If only he could diminish these feelings to the speck they technically are in this universe. <em>Here’s to hoping for everything and nothing.</em></p><p>
  
</p><p>
  <strong> <em>12 hours later</em> </strong>
</p><p> </p><p>The dim light of Satori’s phone shines in the 3am darkness of Satori’s bedroom. His 2:30am alarm woke him up to be ready for Wakatoshi’s call that should be coming any minute. They’ve been messaging sporadically as Satori blinks the grogginess of sleep away. After a short lull in their conversation, the call from Wakatoshi comes through.</p><p>Satori rolls over under the comforter and presses the phone to his ear. “Wakatoshiiii, good morning,” he greets quietly.</p><p>“Good morning, Satori. My flight is about to start boarding. I’m calling like you asked me to.”</p><p>Satori closes his eyes and lets himself drown in Wakatoshi’s voice.</p><p>“Satori?”</p><p>They reopen, lazy-lidded. “Right, ok. See you in half a day? Haha.”</p><p>“Yes, the flight is estimated to be 13 hours.”</p><p>Voices over intercoms echo in the background as Wakatoshi continues. “I will see you in Paris, soon.”</p><p>“Alright, see you in a bit Wakatoshi,” <em>I love you. </em>Satori’s tired smile weakens into a frown as he hits the end button, then releases a frustrated whine into the pillow below. He’s not sure he’ll be able to survive the coming week.</p><p>****</p><p>It’s nice out; rolling the windows down kind of weather. Satori drives along the highway with music blaring out into the afternoon air. It’s the best he could do to drown out the inner voice flooding his thoughts. <em>He’s here. It hasn’t been that long. You choked last time, remember? Everyone has told you to say it. But you aren’t? You could just tell him right there, at the airport. No? Yeah probably not a good idea. But, you want him. But, you can’t have him.</em></p><p>
  <em>Who are you to think you deserve that? To think it would go any way but terribly?</em>
</p><p>Satori shouts along with the music until he pulls into the Arrivals lanes of the airport. Once he’s parked at the corresponding area for Wakatoshi’s flight, he sinks down in the driver’s seat. He figures now is as good a time to talk to himself as any other.</p><p>“Stop… freaking out. He’s literally your best friend. Why are you making this weird??” he asks himself, looking hopelessly at the passenger seat beside him. He finally decides to just get out of the car to wait for Wakatoshi and face his sweet, broad-shouldered, olive-haired fate.</p><p>“Satori,” his heart flutters at the sound of his best friend approaching. He can’t help but smile. <em>God, I just want to hug him. </em>He does, and the way Wakatoshi squeezes is almost cathartic, draining the anxiety right out of him.</p><p><em>Yeah, I don’t know what tomorrow brings, but</em> <em>I’m ok with waiting for it.</em></p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Thank you for reading!!</p><p>This really was an incredibly emotional piece to write. This may be some of the most poetic shit I've ever written to be honest. Feel free to comment with your thoughts!</p><p>Some notes:</p><p>Jounetsu Tairiku is the irl documentary series Furudate references in the manga when Satori talks about being interviewed for when Ushijima gets famous. In chapter 402, a part of their logo shows up in the panel of him with the chocolate and there is a trans note about it reading Jounetsu Tairiku. Here's their <a href="https://twitter.com/jounetsu">twitter page</a> lol</p><p>The motto Satori's mentor likes to say means "You never know what tomorrow will be" (thanks Milo for helping me with the French!!)</p><p>I'm on <a href="https://twitter.com/millias_rage">twitter!</a> Come say hi :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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